


Prompt ficlets (mostly SPN)

by kribban



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kribban/pseuds/kribban
Summary: Prompts open. Concrit most welcome.





	1. Not Talking (Deep Space Nine)

Talking seems to be all the solids do sometimes. Odo lives among them, but he doesn't live like them. He doesn't eat or drink or make love, and he's not burdened by the urge to hear his own voice. 

Not talking makes the solids pay less attention to him. They scheme and fight and betray each other all the way into his holding cells without really noticing him. 

When Major Kira falls in love with First Minister Shakar, she tells Odo all about it. She uses her vocabulary to describe and explain her emotions, and though every part of him screams for her, he says nothing. 

The female changeling later tells him that the spoken language is insufficient; that it's too limited for enlightened beings like Odo and herself. Odo knows it's not true. The language of the solids is highly developed. He just never learned to speak it.


	2. Please (Supernatural)

Dean really hates it when they beg. 

He caught Larry in the act, then spent two days stalking him, and there's no question what Larry deserves. 

That last vic... Dean shakes his head, puts her out of his mind. 

But here, on the hardwood floor in this remarkably human-looking cabin, with pieces of the waitress still stuck in his teeth, Larry has the nerve to look at Dean pleadingly. His eyes are wet and when he opens his mouth, Dean shoots him in the head.

The kid's a different matter of course. They always are. She's waiting for him in the hallway, hand trembling around the stock of her shotgun. She can't be more than ten, eleven.

”You killed my daddy.”

He nods, keeping his gun slightly lowered. She's just out of his reach. ”That's right. But I don't want to kill you. In fact, I'm really hoping I won't have to.” 

Her eyes widen in surprise and she shifts her weight from one legging-covered leg to the other. He knows people like him feature heavily in scary bedtime stories for baby critters like her, and he doesn't blame her one bit for the distrust. He is, however, running out of patience.

”Now, be a good girl and put the gun down.” 

Her breathing's shallow and rapid, and she makes no move to comply, but she keeps her finger off the trigger. She's not ready to kill him but she's not ready to spare him, either. 

Dean raises his gun higher, aims directly at her head. Considering how young she is, his reaction time is definitely shorter than hers. ”Put it down. Come on, sweetheart, you know how this ends otherwise.” 

She twitches a little but doesn't move. At this distance, she almost looks human.

”Please,” Dean adds. 

He really hates begging.


	3. Umbrella (Supernatural)

It's the summer of '96 and the thermometer taped to the windowsill shows it's eighty-five degrees in the shade. There's a light breeze that cools the skin and makes the heat bearable. The sun doesn't burn, and the polyester cover on the lawn chair pad is pleasantly warm against his skin. The weather is perfect because that's how they both remember it.

Jimmy knows he was alone for some time before Amelia joined him, but he can't remember what the weather was like. She can't recall the details of her death, only that their daughter was there, and that Castiel was looking after her.

The house is still brand new, and the next door neighbors won't move in for another month. They had two boys and a Boston terrier that got run over. Jimmy tries to remember their last name. Harris, maybe. 

The ice in his drink isn't melting. 

He had a green umbrella back in 1996. It was a giveaway from a bank or insurance company or something, and he liked it a lot. One of the metal stretchers eventually snapped during a winter storm, but that won't be for another couple of years. It should be here, somewhere. He's searched the whole house for it.

”Are you thinking about Claire?” Amelia asks and shields her eyes with "The Firm" by John Grisham. ”You're looking like that again.” 

He nods and feels incredibly guilty about worrying over a stupid umbrella instead of their daughter.

She puts her book down and reaches for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. ”I'll pray to Castiel tonight.”

 

The kitchen has everything they need; ground beef, tomatoes, burger buns, beer. There are new groceries every morning; anything they've been thinking about cooking. Sometimes they make challenging requests like Wagyu beef or sole fillet, and Heaven doesn't disappoint, but Jimmy can't remember the last time they made burgers. 

After dinner, they pack two glasses and a bottle of good wine and climb the hill behind the playground. The sun warms the blanket and they slide into tipsiness together. Amelia rests on his arm. He cups her cheek gently. 

”Do you remember what we had for dinner last week?”

She regards him carefully for a few seconds before shaking her head. ”I'm sorry. Does that bother you?”

”I feel like it should.” He lets out a deep sigh. ”I feel like all of this should be fucking terrifying. But no, it doesn't bother me.”

Amelia smiles and covers his hand with hers. ”It's not supposed to be scary, Jimmy. It's supposed to be our reward.” She presses her mouth to his and rubs little circles against the back of his hand.

”Maybe,” she says carefully as she draws away, ”we've only been here a week?”

Jimmy can't remember what they had for dinner yesterday. 

 

It's the one line he refuses to cross, and thankfully he won't have to. Amelia prays kneeling by her bedside, just like a child. She thanks Castiel for everything he's done for them. She asks him to look after Claire, and to pass along the message that her mother and father are happy together. 

”I've never included that in my prayer before,” she says as she stands up and throws her arms around his neck. ”At least, I don't think so.” 

He wonders if she's right. 

 

It's eighty-five degrees according to the thermometer, and there's just enough of a breeze to make the heat bearable. Jimmy takes a sip of ice tea and looks up at the clear blue sky above them.

He can't remember how long it took for him to figure it out, but once he did it was obvious. It will never rain here because that's how he and Amelia remember the summer of '96. Because it will never rain, he'll never find his green umbrella. Heaven is a perfect system, where you don't have what you don't need, and you don't need what you don't have.

”Hey, Ames, you've already read that one.”

Amelia looks up in confusion from her paperback. "The Firm" is at the bottom of her book pile. She'll get to it in a couple of days.

”Are you sure? It feels brand new.”


End file.
